Words can be tricky. Sometimes I feel them expertly packed inside of me. Perfectly stacked and sorted, accessible at any time and for any purpose. And then there are times when I feel as though I can grasp words as well as I can grasp a wisp of smoke or a sunbeam. Beautiful, but fleeting verbiage. These past few months, though, have had a different quality. They have seen a series of difficult mental health days. With those, my carefully stacked edifices of words collapse and leave behind them a ruin which I am ever more tired of rebuilding. I’ve felt lost in toppled towers of unfinished thoughts and weathered facades of fuzzy notions.
At best, my writing style, here at least, can be described as meandering so a sense of lost-ness does not necessarily lend itself to a coherent dialogue by any means…
Continue reading “In This Diary”
I love nighttime. I love feeling like I am the only one awake and reveling in the quiet passage of time. I love pulling sheets up to my shoulders in a cool room and telling myself stories as I fall asleep. I love to reach out my hand toward Hammie, who is inevitably snuggling with me, and feel him twitch and snore through his tiny kitten dreams. I love the potential of the dark and quiet to bring the day back to life and offer the opportunity to reflect. Continue reading “Circles and Squares”
* I am just going to go ahead and put this p.s. at the beginning for all you lovely people. A pre, rather than post, script, as it were. One year ago, as of this past Monday, I started this blog and it has found its meandering way into my routine as an important outlet. Thank you for taking this emotionally intense trip with me. One year, man… That’s a big deal to me. I am being facetiously dramatic by saying that I’ve recently gone through a crisis of blog faith and I would like to thank a few lovely women who assured me that it’s not JUST self important aggrandizing (ha)… It can sometimes help others in terms of offering the scope they need in their own lives. I am honored to provide whatever assistance I can by sharing my experience; as others have done for me (maybe in a more justified and eloquent capacity but I do what I can). For all intents and purposes it really is my aim to Hamlet the hell out of life (the actual play, and not just my cat, in this instance) and “hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature.” But I digress.
Continue reading “Somebody to Love”
[“Human” – Rag’n’Bone Man]
This is an image of my favorite wall in Fishtown. It’s at the corner of Hancock St. and Cecil B. Moore Ave. Whenever I have one of my lovely couch surfing evenings with my Fishtown friends, I make a habit of parking nearby so that I can watch and appreciate the artistic changes over time. I am a close follower of Philly street artists. Unlike murals (as much as I love those too), wheatpaste posters, plaster installations, and stickers are more at the mercy of the elements. These art pieces are readily subject to destruction and are therefore, largely, temporary. For that I appreciate them all the more. Not only do I appreciate them for their short-lived nature, but I also admire how they subtly beautify and funkify the ordinary into something worth noting. Something extraordinary. Mail boxes, defunct telephone booths, crumbling walls, chain link fences, bus stops, etc. They all benefit from these little accents created by artists who are truly talented and enthusiastic about their craft.
Continue reading “Human”